Fueling Sins
(hmmm-mm) Pulling up beneath the plastic awning
Fluorescent overhead hums in the dawn
I hold the nozzle while the counter climbs
Paying fifty dollars for five minutes of time
Breath turns bitter in the fumes and rain
Stuck in idle on the eight-lane strip
Checking the dashboard, recalculating the trip
We buy green leaves in plastic bags inside
Then burn ten gallons just to take a ride
Complaining of the traffic that we make
We curse the haze against the glass (we curse the glass) Watching
another season pass
Feeding the tank to run the maze again
Running on combustion, running out of calm
Holding tiny fires right inside our palm
We count the cost per gallon,
never count the cost of breath
Driving faster circles toward the quiet of the edge
(holding the wheel so tight)
Running on combustion,
looking for the light
Glass and steel and metal cage
Turning frustration into quiet rage
We sit with windows rolled up high
Pretending we are separate from the sky
(are
we separate
from the sky?)
Running on combustion, running out of calm
Holding tiny fires right inside our palm
We count the cost per gallon,
never count the cost of breath
Driving faster circles toward the quiet of the edge
(we keep on feeding it)
Running on combustion,
looking for the light
Just another receipt on the floor
Click of the key in the ignition door
(ooh-ooh) Another mile down